Hero Complex
by jomosfamilyjewels
Summary: The city of Seattle is a cesspool of danger. So he scales the rooftops, takes down the vile creatures in secret, hoping to bring this city to its once former glory. But he doesn't fight alone. There's another that stalks the night. She's keen and deadly, and…...a royal pain in his ass. But what happens when these two vigilante rivals meet one another with their masks off?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N - So here it is! The first chapter of my crime fighting Klaroline fic! I figured somebody had to turn them into superheroes eventually...might as well be me. Plus, it wouldn't be a story by me if it wasn't a comedy! So there a heck of a lot of humor in it for those of you wanting some giggles to help out with all the heartbreak of not seeing our lovely couple on screen together! **

**FANON FTW!**

**Thank you to all my beautiful sister wives, for being my always trusty Betas! You girls are my life! And thank you Marvel and DC for all the wonderful crime fighting, superhero awesomeness that inspired this little story!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"_This city is a cesspool of danger and destruction. He can hear its heartbeat and it's beating at an unsteady rhythm. The plague that has overtaken it has crushed the light and beacon that it once was. Overtaken by criminals and monsters; darkness is this city's lover now and it swallows its citizens whole._

_It didn't start out this way. No. It was a culmination of things - but the end result is what lies beneath him at this moment. A once glorious meadow, now an infestation of slithering bottom feeders. _

_So he scales the rooftops, takes down the vile creatures in secret and with fortitude and hopes to bring this city to its once former glory._

_But he doesn't fight alone. There's another that stalks the night, taking up arms to battle this city's foes. She's keen and deadly, and…_

_...a royal pain in his ass."_

"How did I know I'd find you here?"

The Hybrid's back goes rigid at the sound of her voice. He doesn't turn around but stays still, continuing to watch over the city below.

"Ah, if it isn't my favorite cheer captain turned city crusader."

"And if it isn't my _least_ favorite brooding vigilante with a chip on his shoulder."

He hears her sashay toward him, imagining the way her lithe hips bounce back and forth - her fire engine red curls cascading down her shoulders and her bright eyes sparkling through her dark mask.

"What are you doing here, Miss Mystic?"

"The same thing you are, I suppose," she says. "Although, I've spent the last half hour actually scouting the place instead of sitting on my ass and staring at the same brick wall."

"I wasn't-" he stops his explanation and tilts his head back, his nostrils flaring as he inhales sharply. "You are an incessant woman, you know that?"

She giggles and his blood boils. She saunters up next to him and turns around, leaning back against the balcony wall. She rests her elbows behind her and turns to look at him. "You should be thanking me."

He gives her a derisive snort. "And what, pray tell, do I have to be thankful for?"

Mystic glances down at her fingernails nonchalantly and sighs. "For showing up." She looks up and slinks over closer to him. She places two fingers on his chest and slowly walks them up to his shoulder before grazing them lightly against his cheek. He may hate her but he's still a man after all, and by the sudden tightness in his pants he admits that he can certainly appreciate her sexuality.

Although he's never seen her outside of her purple leather ensemble, it still leaves little to the imagination. The curve of her breasts, her flat stomach and the roundness of her ass, are accentuated by the skin tight suit. She wears an utility belt, slinked around her waist for the necessary crime fighting gadgets and her heeled boots make her legs look deadly and delicious. Fighting in heels seems like the most absurd thing ever, but man, does she make it look good. And when she lands a kick, you certainly feel it.

He should know.

She leans into him, her floral scent tingling his senses, and drops her voice to a lower, more seductive octave, "Now that I'm here, you may actually win a fight."

"With your help?" he asks, peering down at her with a certain amount of smolder himself. "The last time we fought side by side, you nearly got us killed."

"What?" she asks, head snapping back in confusion. "If I remember correctly you got your head and your ass mixed up and went after the wrong guy."

"Only because you told me he was the target!"

Her hands flew up in the air. "HE HAD A SECURITY GUARD UNIFORM ON! HE WAS CLEARLY _NOT_ THE TARGET!"

Hybrid rounded on her. "YOU POINTED AT HIM! YOU POINTED!"

The rest of the argument is a slur of profanities and threats, one right after the other. It's not until a shot is fired that they stop their little quarrel and bring their attention back to the matter at hand.

They duck behind the wall, realizing that they had brought a bit too much attention to themselves with their antics.

"Way to go, now he knows we're here!" Hybrid growls.

Mystic rolls her eyes. "Well then, we mustn't keep him waiting. Now shall we?"

Before he can say another word, Mystic disappears over the edge. He glances down and sees her shoot her grappling hook into the building across the way. She swings across and crashes through the window, taking the gunman to the ground.

He stands up and readies himself for the same action.

"Oh no you don't," he grumbles. "This one's mine."

* * *

Caroline's alarm is a blaring reminder that she does, in fact, have responsibilities during the day as well. She groans and turns over, slapping the damn thing to shut it up. She winces in pain, and rubs her side. A bruised rib was a gift from the gunman as he catapulted her across the room and into a table.

Serves her right for being so careless with that abhorant Hybrid. He knows exactly what buttons to push to get her fired up and distracting her from her mission.

"Morning!" a bright and bubbly voice says to her as it enters the room.

"Ugh," she grunts and rolls back over into her pillow.

"It's time to wakey-wakey, Caroline."

"I don't want to," she grumbles.

Her assistant and best friend, Bonnie Bennett, has always been a morning person. In fairness, so was she, but her nightly activities as of late, have her sleeping like the dead and waking up even deader.

Bonnie pretends to not hear Caroline's complaints and goes over to the window, pulling open the curtains. Lake Union is sparkling below and the Cascades' snowy tops are seen on the horizon. The sun is shining for once and Seattle is awake, bustling and getting ready for the day.

"You horrible little monster," Caroline spews and tightens her eyelids, trying to ignore the invasive sunlight.

"Did we have another late night?" Bonnie asks.

"What do you think?"

Bonnie sits on the edge of the bed and hands Caroline a cup of coffee. "I think this vigilante stuff is crazy, but you already knew that."

Caroline sighs but nods in agreement before sipping her coffee. "It's an awful lot of fun though."

"Why do you do it, anyway? It's not like you aren't already doing great things for the community as Caroline Forbes. What can Miss Mystic do that Caroline can't?"

"She can land a pretty great roundhouse," Caroline laughs but winces again when her bruised rib acts up.

"What now?" Bonnie asks with a modicum of concern; accustomed to Caroline's scrapes and bruises.

"I had the son of a bitch right where I wanted him, until…"

"Until The Hybrid took him down for you and got all the credit?"

The look Caroline gives Bonnie could melt paint off a wall. "He did not take him down for me," she says dangerously. "Where would you even get an idea like that?"

"I saw it on the news."

"WHAT?" Caroline shouts and scurries out of bed. She ignores the pain in her side as she races across the living room and flicks on the television.

"_-the man in question was making an assassination attempt on Mayor Lockwood, but was apprehended by our city's favorite guardian angel. The Hybrid didn't stay to greet his adoring fans but instead left the man - bound and knocked out with a note - on the steps of the Seattle Police Department…" _

"Favorite?" Caroline gasps. "FAVORITE?!"

"Oh boy," Bonnie says under her breath.

"_That_ imposter," Caroline spits, pointing at the television, "slithered through the window that I already broke, hit the guy one time after I just kicked his ass…"

"and then got kicked into a coffee table…"

Caroline rounds on Bonnie, pointing at her and daring her to say another word. "Not...the point." Her arms fall to her side and she deflates onto the arm of the sofa. "His sissy little fist never would've done enough damage if I hadn't already worn him out first," she whines, sounding more like a child than the dangerous Miss Mystic.

She sighs again and melts off the arm of the sofa and into a puddle on the cushions. "What a crock of shit."

"Hey," Bonnie says, coming closer and resting a hand on the blonde. "That's not why you do it anyway, right?" Caroline glances up, her brows furrowed with distress. "The Hybrid's an asshole, Care. A seriously _hot_ asshole," she chuckles but quickly wipes the smile from her face when Caroline gives her another look. She puts her hands up in defense and tells her, "All I'm saying is who cares who gets the credit? The bad guy's in jail. You did a good thing."

"_I _care," Caroline whines again and stands up. "I've been doing this...thing," she says for lack of a better word, "for over a year. It was just me and you, Bon, and then this turd nugget shows up one day and all of a sudden I just have to be grateful for his help? We were doing just fine! And now _this_...again. It's like, come on, get your own damn criminals!" She turns around with an added thought, "And he is _not_ hot."

"He's pretty hot."

"You can't even see his face!"

"You can see his stubbled jaw, and that suit he wears does _not_ hide anything, if you know what I'm sayin."

Caroline rolls her eyes, disgusted with her friend. "He's an ass."

"Oh stop. You know you think he's hot too," Bonnie interjects.

She thinks about it for a second. It's true that she likes to use her sexual prowess to get him all hot and bothered, but she would never admit that he does the same to her.

Bonnie's right though, he is certainly not lacking in the beefcake department. The black suit and hood he parades around in does give him an undeniable amount of allure. But it doesn't matter because anytime she starts to think there's something meaningful beneath all that leather, he opens his mouth and she's reminded of just how arrogant, rude, selfish and stupid he is.

"You're thinking about what's under his suit, aren't you?" Bonnie asks, and wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

"No," she snaps back. "As attractive as he may be, to _some_ people, he's still capable of the bullshit he pulled last night." She glares at the television, her blood beginning to boil once more as the news anchor rambles on and on about how essential and important the Hybrid is for this city.

A blonde reporter standing out front of the precinct is talking about it now, and her fists clench. Didn't anything else happen last night in this city? Why is this story taking up so much air time?

"_...and although we can appreciate the hard work our guys in blue do for this city, I think it's a consensus around here, that the Hybrid makes their jobs a little easier. Camille O'Connell - KOMO 4 News." _

"_He's certainly easy on the eyes too. Wouldn't you agree, Camille?" _the female news anchor chimes in.

Camille giggles, and Caroline notices a slight pink in the reporters cheeks. "_You said it Joan. I'm sure The Hybrid has stolen a few hearts in this city." _

"She's not wrong," Bonnie agrees. She looks over at Caroline who is shaking her head and seething, borderline foaming at the mouth. "What? She's not."

"WELL WHY DON'T YOU JUST MARRY HIM ALREADY, BONNIE!" Caroline screams irrationally and spins on her heels. She strides back to her bedroom and in one last dramatic flare slams the door behind her.

"Get ready, Care," Bonnie hollers at her bedroom. "We're going to be late!"

"I OWN THE DAMN COMPANY, BONNIE!"

Bonnie smiles, against her better judgement. "This is going to be a fun day."

* * *

"Mystic is going to beat the shit out of you."

"She can certainly try."

Kol shakes his head and swivels his chair around to face Klaus. "Do I have to remind you of the last time you got in a little spat with our Miss Mystic?"

Klaus continues to spar with the punching bag - jabbing, kicking and working on his technique. "Not if you want me to replace you with this bag."

"You got your ass handed to you," he tells him, ignoring his brother's warning. "She literally handed you your ass and said, 'I think you dropped this back there'."

Klaus stops his sparring and sighs, finally turning to look at him. "She got lucky."

"Ha! Keep telling yourself that."

"It was my first night out as The Hybrid, and I wasn't expecting the vigilante to be so…" he pauses trying to think of the right word.

"Sexy?" Kol offers.

"I was going to say aggressive," Klaus corrects.

"Oh, I'm sure she's that too," he adds, his meaning not lost on Klaus.

Klaus returns to his punching bag. "The day I start to think of that woman as anything other than a blister on my calloused hand, is the day the world stops spinning."

"You're just upset that she presented you with a silver platter and your ass was the entree."

"_She caught me off guard!" _he grits his teeth. "She thought I was the bad guy, that's all."

"Fine, whatever you say, mate."

"Can we _please_ get back to the matter at hand? Tell me what you've found out about our gunman? Do we know who he was working for?"

Kol swivels back around to face his computers, a wall full of surveillance screens and various databases. "I may have found a few things," he says coyly and clicks away at the keyboard while he talks. "We know he was after the mayor and that he was obviously a hired hand. At first I thought he was a ghost. The Seattle PD has nothing on him, but a few clicks and a couple passwords later I was able to hack into the FBI profile database. And viola!

Ben McKittrick."

Klaus stops his wrangling with the bag and steps toward Kol. He leans over and peers at the man's face. Although he recognizes him from last night, his name doesn't ring a bell. "Where do we know this bloke from?"

"Remember the take down that happened in Virginia a few years back?"

"The Fell operation. He was a part of it?"

"In a matter of speaking," Kol says. "He was found at the scene, and taken into custody, but they didn't have enough on him to connect him to the incident. He was released, free of charges, and then never thought of again."

"So who brought him to Seattle?"

"Honestly?" Kol shrugs, "I have no idea."

"Well, keep digging, there has to be a connection somewhere."

Kol nods and turns back to his computers. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to go to work, see what else I can dig up."

Kol laughs. "You and your 'work'. You do realize that our family owns that newspaper? You don't have to go to work."

Klaus shrugs, "It keeps me busy, and aids us in our extra curricular activities."

The Mikaelson family, although involved in many different dealings regarding this city, are practically the sole owners of its media coverage. They obtained this status in the 1980s, when his father, Mikael Mikaelson made it his business to be in everyone else's.

After a freak car accident and the untimely death of Mikael and his mother Esther, their eldest brother Elijah took over the company. He was well suited for the job, as the charming face of Mikaelson Unlimited, and allowed Klaus and Kol the time to pursue other hobbies.

Klaus took on a head writer position at the Seattle Tribune and Kol took on the position of billionaire playboy by day and hacker by night.

"_I'm an integral part of the community," he told Klaus one evening, while defending his latest dalliance. _

"_I'm not sure sleeping with every girl in Seattle makes you integral, Kol."_

Klaus mostly writes fluff pieces for the Trib, but he doesn't mind. Working at a credible newspaper is to his advantage. He can keep an ear to the ground during the day, and use the leads to take down the bad guys at night.

"I'm starting a new project today."

"Oh great, another thrilling expose on an overprivileged Seattleite?" Kol says sardonically.

"Kol..._you're_ an overprivileged Seattleite," Klaus points out.

"And don't you forget it."

Klaus rolls his eyes, "I'm afraid you'll never let me."

"So, who's the unfortunate soul that has to put up with you for the next month?"

Klaus tries to keep his composure, which is hard to do whenever he thinks about his latest story. She is quite exquisite and done very well for herself since her father left her his company. She managed to turn a simple uniform company into a global phenomenon, when she ditched the uniforms and traded them up for designer formal wear.

"I'm actually writing a piece on Caroline Forbes," he tells his brother who swivels back around to face him.

"No shit?!" Kol says in total surprise and with a hint of jealousy. "She hasn't done an interview since that Fortune 500 article when she first took over the company. How the hell did you get an interview?"

"My charm, I would imagine," Klaus smirks. "Plus she's launching a new brand of handbags or something, and I think she needs the PR."

"I've seen her at a few events that Elijah's dragged me to, and fuck me, she's a beautiful woman!" He stands up and crosses the room to his brother, as if inspiration has struck. "Klaus," he says, taking on a more serious tone. He places his hands on either side of his shoulders, making sure he is looking directly at him. "Swear to me, as my brother, that you will do everything in your power to sleep with that woman?"

"You're an idiot" Klaus rolls his eyes, and slaps his hands away. He walks away to retrieve his gym bag, with Kol in tow.

"Come on, brother, do it for the Mikaelson family name."

Although Caroline Forbes and her long legs wrapping around him doesn't sound like a bad idea, he's never been one to mix business with pleasure. He finds that it makes things messy when he's trying to report the truth.

"You know I can't do that," he tells Kol. "No matter how tempting."

"You _own _the paper, Klaus! You can _do _whatever you want!"

Klaus considers this for a moment, envisioning himself breaking the rules just once. It's not like this is a real hard-hitting news story. I mean, what harm would it really do if he were to wine and dine the beauty?

He glances at Kol who just stares at him with a stupid smirk and raised eyebrows.

"No, Kol", he tells him, but if he's honest, he hasn't completely ruled out the idea.

Kol lets out an exasperated sigh.

"Klaus Mikaelson, you have failed this city!"

* * *

Detective Donovan paces the prison cell, shaking his head in disbelief. The feet of Ben McKittrick dangle in the air, his body limp and hanging from the rafters.

"Guard found him this morning while making his rounds." Detective Lockwood tells him. "Not that I'm too sad about it, considering he was trying to take out my dad."

"Suicide though?" he questions out loud. "This doesn't make sense."

"Makes perfect sense," Lockwood, chimes in. "Guy must be working with some pretty big names if he's afraid of what they'll do to him for getting caught."

"Or what they've already done to him," Donovan suggests, looking up at the swinging corpse.

"Whoa whoa," Lockwood stands upright from his place against the wall. "Are you suggesting that this is an inside job?" he asks in a hushed whisper. "'Cause that's some pretty heavy allegations to be throwing around."

Donovan sighs before folding his arms across his chest. "We have to consider everything."

"Well consider keeping that sort of talk on the down low, partner. If there is a compromised officer in the precinct, it's best to play dumb."

Donovan nods, and follows Lockwood out of the cell. Ironically, Detective Lockwood would've been the first suspect for an inside job, seeing as he has the most motive out of everyone. Donovan was with him, however, kicking his butt in darts and watching him drink himself into a stupor until well past 2am. He practically carried Lockwood home from the bar.

"We should contact The Hybrid and see what he knows," Donovan suggests.

"Hell no, we're calling Mystic."

"But, she wasn't even there. Hybrid is the one who apprehended the guy."

"Oh she was there. She's always there. Plus, she's been in this city longer and I trust her way more than that tool in a hood."

"You just like looking at her in that outfit."

"Don't you?"

Donovan sighs and stretches his arm behind him, scratching his head. "Yeah...yeah, I really do," he concedes, "Let's call Mystic."

* * *

**Soooo, what do we think? If you could tell me in the little box below, that would be just the best thing ever! Reviews are simply the bees knees!**

**You can find me on Tumblr at jomosfamilyjewels too!**

**Thanks for reading guys! I really hope you liked it and are looking forward to more! xoxo**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Holy cow this took a long time to update! But I told myself...you must persevere! Continue this story because it's going to be a blast to write! **

**So I did...and now I'm posting it and I hope you enjoy it!**

**Thanks to my beautiful betas! You girls are the best!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The elevator dings, the doors slide open and Caroline and Bonnie step out and into the entryway of the 51st floor. The white marble clicks beneath their heels as they make their way toward the large mahogany desk standing guard outside the entrance. Caroline glances up at her last name, big and bold, and in its trademark lettering, as their receptionist steps out and around to greet them.

"Good morning, Ms. Forbes...Ms. Bennett," she beams, her big blue eyes full of hopeful wonderment.

"Good morning, April," Caroline says and smiles warmly at the girl. "Oh, your hair and makeup are on point today," she says kindly, causing the girl to blush.

"Thank you, so much!" she beams and opens the door for the ladies.

"You just made her day," Bonnie comments as they pass through the threshold and onto the bustling office floor.

"I try," Caroline shrugs and continues to walk briskly.

The floor is a menagerie of color as the new fall line is quickly on its way. Purples, greens and browns all in various colors are being rolled this way and handed off that way. Phones are ringing, faxes are printing and the scent of coffee is wafting seductively throughout the room. All the while Bonnie is being handed forms to check off, colors to select, and Caroline makes sure to recognize each employee that passes them by.

"I love that shirt, Katie."

"Oh my god, Becky, your shoes are to die for."

"Alex, you have to give me the number of your stylist."

"Great work on that hemline debacle, Miranda."

"Leah, you still seeing that male model from the Spring photoshoot?"

She winks and waves, while Bonnie signs and nods. It's a daily routine that Caroline feels is necessary to keep her employees happy as well as working harder and faster.

"Hey, bitches," Caroline's office manager and head stylist says, scurrying up next to Caroline and Bonnie.

"Katherine, your curls are so fantas-."

"Stop it," Katherine interrupts and puts her hand up. "I don't need your accolades. I know I'm the shit, Caroline."

"I can't help it," she laughs. "I just get in the zone, ya know?"

"Yes, and I'm sure your peons all appreciate the extra effort." She hands Caroline a Starbucks and a black folder to Bonnie before starting in on the outline of their day. "You have a conference call with Milan at 11, a fitting at 2, and the Salvatore brothers keep calling to ask when they can take you to lunch."

Caroline rolls her eyes. "Persistent, aren't they?" she says. "Fine, find a time for us sometime next week."

"You got it," she make a note and starts to walk away but remembers something else. "Oh yeah, and there's the most delicious piece of man candy waiting for you in your office."

"What?" Caroline laughs. "Who in the world…"

"It's Klaus Mikaelson. With the Tribune," Kat tells them, all but giddy. "He's honestly even more beautiful up close. I'm not sure if I want to fuck him or if I should run far far away from him."

"Run!" Caroline and Bonnie say in unison.

"If not for your sake, then definitely for his."

Katherine tilts her head to the side and squints her eyes at Bonnie. Caroline's positive that if she had the power to, she'd be burning a hole through Bonnie's face right about now.

"I completely forgot about the Tribune article."

"You and me both," Bonnie tells her. "It's okay, we can reschedule. Kat, can you please tell Mr. Mikaelson that it's going to have to be another day?"

Katherine goes to do just that when Caroline blurts out, "No!"

The other two girls, along with a handful of passerbyers are startled and stare at the blonde.

"I mean...no, that won't be necessary. I mean, he came all this way." Caroline tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and looks down at the ground, a highly unusual act for such a high powered woman like herself.

Bonnie tilts her head and lifts an eyebrow at her while Kat just laughs, "There's the Caroline I know and love. He really is dreamy," she says and bites her lip. "And rich!"

"I'm rich," Caroline reminds her.

"Thanks Kat," Bonnie tells her. "You can go now."

"Oh can I?" Kat asks and burns a hole through Bonnie once more, before her brown curls are flitting through the air as she twirls on her heels and leaves.

"Why are we her friend again?" Bonnie asks Caroline.

"Because," Caroline says, looping her arm through Bonnie's. "What would our lives be like without the fearless, gorgeous and brilliant mind of Katherine Pierce?"

"Saner...for starters."

"Come on," Caroline laughs and bumps her hip into Bonnie's. "Let's go meet this dreamy and rich Mr. Mikaelson."

"He is pretty hot," Bonnie chimes in.

"Duh. Why do you think I agreed to the interview?"

* * *

Klaus takes a seat on a black leather sofa, the centerpiece of a cozy living room set up in Caroline's office. He's actually quite surprised at how modest the room is. Her desk is strategically placed so that she can look out at the Seattle landscape through her floor to ceiling windows. Along with the sofa there's a matching chair, a simple oak coffee table with a number of fashion magazines strewn across it, and one or two art pieces hanging on the walls.

The most extraordinary thing is the large glass Chihuly hanging near the window. It's quite breathtaking, the way the blown glass looks as though it were fabric, flowing down in a multitude of colors. It absorbs the light around it and reflects it throughout the room. With such an ornate piece, there's really no need for any further extravagances.

He notices a few family photos along the shelf and stands up to take a closer look. The first one is with, a woman he can only imagine is her mother, and smirks at the tiny pigtailed Caroline. Next is one of her late father, Bill Forbes. He met him once, at some event or another that Mikael dragged him to. They spoke briefly, but he remembers him being a pleasant man. He wasn't timid, by any means, and he's sure that in his day he had a head for business. But what Caroline has done with his company, is beyond anyone's expectations.

The next photo is with both her parents on her graduation day. She stands tall, smiling and beaming at the camera - mom on the right and dad on the left. There's a light in her that he believes is what's made this company so successful. She has reinvented a product, changed the atmosphere for her loyal employees, and has made millions in the process.

He places it back and moves to the next one, his head tilting slightly and his eyes growing a little larger as he picks it up to take a closer look. Caroline is standing in between two other girls, smiling and shaking pom poms at the camera. Klaus has never given much thought toward this particular male fantasy, but seeing Caroline in that tiny maroon outfit, with her high ponytail, long legs, and exposed midriff, he's starting to get it.

"Gooo Timberwolves!"

Klaus is startled at the sound of Caroline's voice, and nearly drops the photo, fumbling it in his hands before quickly setting it back in its place. He takes a moment to regain his composure before turning toward her and smiling.

The girl in the photo doesn't compare to the woman before him. The blonde hair and blue eyes are just the beginning, as he drinks in the rest of her ensemble. A cream colored blouse tucked into a royal blue pencil skirt, hugging her curves and sitting just above her knees. Her black stilettos are almost unfair, as they elongate her legs into an unbelievable length.

"My apologies," he says. "I was just admiring your…um," he begins to say but then decides he'd be better off not finishing that sentence. "Looks like you've had a very fulfilling life," he decides on, moving away from the photos and toward the blonde.

"Oh yes," she confirms, that same wide smile he was admiring in the photos now in living color. "Things are pretty great when the only thing you worry about is the color of your nail polish."

He chuckles, appreciating her carefree reaction to his unfortunate position. "I'm sure Caroline Forbes was ambitious even in college."

"That's high school," she says, pointing at the photo.

He feels the blood drain from his face, embarrassment seeping into his bones. "High school," he swallows, hoping he isn't coming across as a complete degenerate. "Of course it is."

She laughs, helping him feel more at ease. She sweeps her arm to the side toward the sofa, inviting him to sit.

"Things were much simpler back then," she tells him and takes a seat in the overstuffed chair.

"How so?"

"Is the interview starting already?" she laughs, crossing her legs and linking her fingers over her knee.

He tries to keep eye contact with her, he truly does, but those legs are making it hard to concentrate. "Yes..well," he clears his throat and looks down, the recorder in his hand suddenly becoming very important. "I know your time is valuable."

There's a slightly uncomfortable pause before she finally speaks. "If I didn't want to take the time, Mr. Mikaelson, then I never would've signed up for this."

"Why did you sign up for this?" he genuinely asks.

"The publicity, for starters. You're aware that I'm starting a new handbag line," she tells him. "And...I don't know, it doesn't hurt that I get to spend time with one of Seattle's most eligible bachelors."

He smiles but keeps his gaze down. Instead, he places the recorder on the coffee table, and with as much Mikaelson smolder as he can muster, slowly peers up at her. Typically this look melts the panties right off of most girls, but he can immediately tell that Caroline Forbes isn't like most girls.

She meets his gaze straight on, unabashedly, but with a slight tinge of dark pink creeping up her cheeks. He wouldn't call her look a smolder, per se, but there's a coyness in it that's both breathtaking and sexy as hell.

Sleep with her for the Mikaelson name, Kol's friendly reminder comes to mind.

He reluctantly tears his gaze away from her and clears his throat again, "I suppose we should begin," he suggests.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," she responds, shifting in her seat and straightening her back. She gives him her brightest smile and says, "Ask away."

"Alright, tell me Ms. Forbes-"

"Care?" a petite brunette peeks her head in the office, whom Klaus recognizes from the cheer photo. "I'm so sorry to interrupt, but you told me to if there's ever an emergency..."

His phone starts to ring, pulling his attention away, and sees Kol's name on his caller ID. "I have to take this anyway," he tells them. "Please take your time."

She stands and makes her way across the room, and waits to make certain she's a fair distance away before answering his phone. "What the hell is it Kol?"

"They're calling for her."

"What?"

"The police are asking for Mystic."

The indignation of it all has Klaus starting to fume. "What do you mean they're asking for her? I'm the one who apprehended the man, and we most definitely have the most information on him. There must be some mistake."

"Nope," all the cop radios are giving it a signal boost. "Miss Mystic, you're needed...Miss Mystic you're needed...blah blah blah."

Klaus rolls his eyes back and takes a deep breath. He's a grown up for fuck's sake, and they're both doing the right thing for this city, he attempts to remind himself. It's no use, however, as the rivalry between them has gone on for too long for him to have such a nonchalant attitude about it.

"Well, I'm not sure what I can do about it now, it's not like I can just waltz in and pretend like they really wanted to talk to me?"

There's a pause on the other end and Klaus knows that Kol is pondering it. "I'm not going to do that, Kol. I'll look like a complete ninny."

"I didn't say you should…"

"Why the call then?"

"Well, for one, it's hilarious and I wouldn't be a decent brother if I didn't give you shit from time to time."

"Kol…" he warns.

"But also I got more info on Ben McKittrick and you should probably make sure either Mystic or the cops get it."

He releases a heavy sigh, and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Fine, I'll be right there."

He stands up and begins to pack his things, ready to make his apologies and practicing his excuse. She comes back to the office with her hands folded and a disgruntled look.

"I'm so sorry, but there's an emergency at one of the photoshoots. I...I have to go."

"Oh," he says, "That's actually fine. I've been called away myself." He slings his messenger bag around his neck and adjusts the strap. "Should I schedule another appointment with your assistant?"

"Yes, that would be just fine."

He nods and starts to walk away when her voice pulls him back. "Um, Mr. Mikaelson?"

"Yes?"

"Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow evening?"

A smirk hitches at the corner of his mouth and he lists his head to the side. "Are you asking me out on a date, Ms. Forbes?"

"Maybe," she tells him, repeating that same devastatingly gorgeous smile from before. "But only if you call me Caroline."

"Alright...Caroline. I agree to your terms, as long as you do me the same courtesy and call me Klaus."

"Alright...Klaus. Tomorrow night, eight o'clock at the Purple Door."

"I'll be there."

* * *

**A little shorter than I like my chapters to be, but I hope you still enjoyed it!**

**If you did and you can...I would loooove a review! They're what we writers yearn for and it totally makes my day!**

**Thanks for reading and find me on Tumblr at jomosfamilyjewels!**


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